To-morrow, when she returned to Hong-Kong, she would purchase a simple but modern dress. That last year in Paris, when Annabel and she had lived in different worlds, had often been a nightmare to her. ” So they went this time to the Rococo, in Germain Street, and up-stairs to a landing upon which stood a bald-headed waiter with whiskers like a French admiral and discretion beyond all limits in his manner. ” Annabel looked intently into her glass. “Because you used to be my friend, Lucy, and now I don’t get to see you anymore unless I can get into your house. " Upon which, Mr. “Oh, I am lonely,” she moaned. ‘Jacques?’ she called out, forgetting the need for silence.
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